The Race
by Orange Lights
Summary: Thirteen year old Franziska twists her ankle and is unable to walk. Miles is the only one there and decides to carry her. Franziska does not. like. this. Written for the kink meme.


**A/N:** Written for the kink meme. Prompt was 13 year old Franziska twists/sprains her foot and the only person to carry her back is Miles.

* * *

The Race

It all started when Franziska decided to have a race with Miles.

Miles had finished a case in court and von Karma had told him that he had business in the court house, and that Miles would walk Franziska home.

He began to move away, then stopped; deliberately. He turned around to face Miles and complimented him on his prosecuting skills with a small, knowing smirk on his face.

Franziska had recognised this as a smile, and she could never manage to earn a smile from her papa. It made her furious, a jealous rage boiling inside her. She didn't even thank Miles for the Swiss roll he bought her before they left, refusing to eat it as _'I'm not child any more, Miles Edgeworth, I can't be pacified by mere sweets'. _Miles had no idea on why she was so upset, but kept the Swiss roll in his pocket along with his Prosecutor's badge, knowing that she would badger him later for it.

"Let's have a race." She demanded, pointing at him with her riding crop. Miles merely acknowledged the statement by looking at her as they walked.

It was sunny outside, but all through the night it had been raining. While the streets had dried out by now, the countryside path they were taking to the von Karma mansion were dirt paths that were mostly used by dog walkers. The mud had soaked up all the rain, the wet glistening in the sunlight. It had began to dry out, but there were still patches of slippery muddy puddles that Miles had been trying to avoid.

Also twenty year old prodigies did not race.

At the lack of a response, something Franziska was used to, she elaborated, "To that tree at the end of this path. We'll see who can reach it first."

"You'll slip over." Miles warned, pointing out the potentially dangerous surface, "You're only going to hurt yourself."

"Foolish fool!" Franziska snapped, "Fine, I'll beat you and get there first, and then we'll see who's sorry!"

It was mostly fuelled by a determination to prove to her younger brother that sometimes he didn't always know best, a determination to show that he was wrong and that she was right, that she _was _better than him, that he should be following in _her _footsteps and not the other way round, but mostly because of the fact that she wished her papa smiled at her and not always at Miles, so she kept running, faster and faster, trying to reach that tree...

...she stumbled, her foot sliding where it should have pushed off the ground, twisting as she fell, her arms outstretched behind her to catch her fall. There was tears prickling her eyes, probably due to the shock, but also to the realisation that _damn foolish _Miles Edgeworth had been right again and she had been wrong.

"Franziska!"

Miles had sprinted over in alarm, just moving a little way ahead of her to were the tree was, crouching down to look at her.

"Are you all right?" He said, worried.

Franziska gritted her teeth. He had a hand on the tree, probably unintentional, but it still aggravated her. Miles had won the race that he didn't even want to compete in.

"Of course I'm all right, you foolishly foolish fool, Miles Edgeworth." She brushed off, a hint of irritation in her voice. She wasn't going to show any sign of weakness, that's it, push yourself up -

A sharp pain stabbed her ankle as she applied some pressure on it, on reflex she hissed, an exclamation of _'ow!' _that Miles hadn't missed.

"You're sprained your ankle." Miles said, as he observed. It was as close as a _'I-told-you-so' _that Miles would ever get to, "Stop moving, you'll only damage it more - "

"Shut up Miles, I can get up fine - "

"You can't move at all, don't be a fool." Miles interrupted sharply. He sounded so much like papa that for a second Franziska listened to him and lay still. As she had slipped, she had pushed up a trench of mud with her foot, the dirt soaking into her white leggings; her black waistcoat was scrunched up and had flecks of dirt sprayed up the back. It was uncomfortable, Franziska could feel the damp soaking into her skin through the leggings and she hated the fact that her clothes were ruined.

"Papa is going to be furious." Franziska said, in a downhearted tone. Von Karma often maintained that appearance was highly important and one must always be kept clean and keep a level head, no matter what circumstances.

"We won't tell him, we'll get the clothes washed before he comes back." Miles commented, picking Franziska up in a 'over-the-threshold' grip, one arm tucked under her knees, one arm holding up her back. Franziska waved her riding crop in alarm as she was lifted, her eyes angry as she hit Miles with the riding crop on his shoulder.

"Put me down, you fool!" She protested vehemently, "I'm _not _going to be carried around like some invalid! Miles Edgeworth! _Miles Edgeworth –_ are you listening, I am perfectly able to walk, _stop being such a fool and listen to me - _"

Miles dutifully ignored her, and continued the walk back to the von Karma mansion.

* * *

von Karma lived out of the city, in an isolated patch of grassland where there were no other houses. A few miles beyond there was a small rustic village that neither Franziska or Miles had visited in their lives, nor particularly wished too. Manfred von Karma could not deal with the niggling irritations of city life and the fools that abounded there, so relished the isolation of the countryside.

It was around a mile and a half walk for Franziska and Miles from the courthouse to the house, and vice versa. They had travelled on these paths before; when Manfred had a case, Franziska would command Miles to walk with her to watch in the stands and when he refused, threatened to go on her own.

Therefore, it became a regular occurrence to walk to the courthouse, as Miles couldn't allow Franziska to go out alone. Von Karma would announce he had a case, drive there in his car, and the two siblings would walk out after he had left.

The fact that von Karma had told them both to walk home, either meant that he knew of these outings, or that he just wanted to make an unreasonable demand and see if they could manage to get home without his help. It was a test, Miles knew, but he didn't know what he was trying to figure out from them.

"Foolish fool." Franziska grumbled, tapping him on the ear with her riding crop. She had started to do it when she got bored, not hard enough to hurt, but just to tell him that she was still there and wanted his attention. They had been walking for ten minutes, not speaking a word to each other. Franziska stopped complaining when he continued to ignore her, and instead wrapped an arm around his neck to keep herself up.

The mud from her leggings was soaking into his coat, but thankfully it was black and wouldn't show, compared to the magenta suit he was wearing underneath. Franziska hadn't noticed this, idly flicking him with the crop and looking out at the trees.

After another three minutes of silence, Franziska cracked.

"OK, that is enough, little brother." She started off in what she deemed a reasonable tone, trying to take control of the situation, "You have proven your point that I shouldn't have run, but put me down right now. I cannot tolerate this _humiliation _any more, I am easily able to walk - "

"You've sprained your ankle." Miles said simply, "You cannot walk."

"You foolishly foolish fool who won't listen to anything else but his own foolish conclusions which are foolish! You put me down right this instant, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska fumed.

Miles ignored her again and continued on walking.

Franziska huffed to herself, "You're acting very childish by not talking to me."

_You're acting very childish by hitting me with a riding crop and insisting you can walk on a sprained ankle. _

"You're having one of those inward monologues again, aren't you?" Franziska said rhetorically, knowing she wasn't going to get an answer. Miles hmphed in response, causing Franziska to smile.

"You are very predictable Miles Edgeworth."

"The same goes for you." Miles commented dryly, "You're especially easy to figure out due to your excessive levels of stubbornness."

Franziska looked up at him, and noticed that he was trying to conceal a laugh. Franziska frowned at him, hitting him on the head with the riding crop.

"Did you expect that, hmmmm Miles Edgeworth?"

"Yes, actually."

Franziska hit him again. When he didn't say anything, she assumed he was having another inward monologue, and hit him for that as well.

"I thought you were a bit too old to race." Miles commented, after they had walked for a little bit longer. It wasn't a jab at her, Franziska knew, but something he had been thinking about and hadn't yet quite worked out the answer. She sniffed.

Franziska hated her brother, but she loved him as well. She hated him because he constantly outdid her, because her papa preferred him to herself, because he always acted like he was above her. She hated him because she loved him, she looked up to him – not as much as she admired her papa, obviously – but enough to have competitions with him, to see if she could ever defeat him. She never had won in these competitions, but that hadn't stopped her from trying. It had stopped Miles from taking part though, instead he just brushed it away, like he did with the race.

"No, it was you who was too old to race." Franziska said finally.

They turned around the corner of the path, one of the visible milestones for them both as they knew that they were almost at the mansion, they could see it not too far in the distance – about a five minute walk. The two didn't say a word as Miles continued to walk carrying Franziska (he didn't want to admit that actually she was starting to get _quite heavy_, and was relieved that they were nearly back), both of them lost in their own thoughts.

_We're both aspiring to be renowned prosecutors, like Mr. von Karma, to get those criminals on the stand convicted guilty. I could understand we would be rivals, if we were on opposite sides of the court, but to be against each other when we stand on the same side... Franziska, you are racing by yourself. What is the point of it after all, when we are running on the same track? There will always be one in front and one behind... _

Miles deliberated on telling her this, looking down at his thirteen year old sister in his arms, who was frowning at the distance. He looked back to the path.

_Too damn stubborn, you won't listen. You'll figure this out someday though, Franziska. _

There was a sharp tap on his head from the riding crop.

"If you're having an inward monologue about me, little brother, try and make it a little more subtle next time. Staring at me made it the slightest bit obvious."

_Oh blast. _


End file.
